


Playing His Game

by UnknownLeaf



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Torture, Hand Jobs, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Rape, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownLeaf/pseuds/UnknownLeaf
Summary: Freddy takes delight in unraveling Quentin with a little game.
Relationships: Freddy Krueger/Quentin Smith
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	Playing His Game

**Author's Note:**

> This was a random idea now brought to life in writing.  
> Please heed the warnings and tags before proceeding.

Majority of the trials Freddy partook in involved the odd thrill or grievance, someone to mildly entertain him until he ultimately grew bored of their antics. Most of the prey in this world were unmemorable, like a brand-new toy a child plays with only for it to be forgotten when a better toy captures their eye. Although, every so often, their mysterious captor allowed him the utmost pleasure of hunting down his one true interest, his spirited obsession. His precious Quentin.

This trial was no exception but the other survivors had to die first.

After dispatching the bothersome Japanese girl and watching the quiet artist die on a hook, he thought isolating the teen would be a cinch. Only his boy was clever, sneaky even, and evaded discovery at every possible turn. Additionally, his overwhelming desire to seek out his obsession was thwarted by the constant interference of one competitive gamer. Obviously the girl was merely acting as a decoy, an obnoxiously determined one at that, to give his boy ample time to fix up the last machine. But Quentin was _never_ going to escape from him.

“C’mon loser!” an injured Feng Min gloated after rudely slamming a pallet over his head. “Is that the best you can do Mr. Barbequed Pussy?” Such a filthy mouth.

“Be careful what you ask for bitch,” Freddy darkly warned, his patience matching his low tone of voice.

Breaking the pesky pallet, he indulged the girl in a chase while simultaneously building up his blood lust. His persistence and her cocky attitude eventually presented to him the ideal window of opportunity. Taking advantage of her carelessness in stepping on one of his snares, Freddy drew back his shiny claws and delivered a satisfying slash to her back. Her ruby blood splattered a pop of colour onto the chalky pavement as her lithe body collapsed with a deafening smack.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he mockingly tutted when circling around to her head, “and you were doing so well too.”

Her obsidian orbs gleamed dangerously like a lioness waiting to pounce, a look not quite matching her deep scowl, before she pointedly spat on his shoe and then proclaimed, “You’re still a shit killer.”

“Nightmares don’t need to kill to be deadly.” Why slaughter them quickly if there was far greater enjoyment to be had watching them suffer like this?

Ignoring her ceaseless jabs at his ego, Freddy left the fiery bitch to bleed out in the street with a pleased grin stretched across his face. Unbeknownst to her, their little race around the realm had revealed exactly which generator his boy was working on: the one in the basement of the preschool. How fitting.

Teleporting to the machine was going to alert Quentin and possibly kickstart another tedious chase; hence, he opted to enter the basement on foot. Quieting his approach, Freddy navigated through narrow and steamy hallways to find his target crouching before a partially repaired generator. Despite looking ever so charmingly fatigued, his boy maintained a watchful eye on his work and his surroundings. Evidently not watchful enough given that his presence had yet to be noticed. No matter; all the more convenient for the both of them.

Hovering in the shadows until Quentin shifted his gaze to the nearby staircase, Freddy sprung forward and trapped the unsuspecting survivor between his body and the noisy machine.

“You sonofa—get offa me!” Quentin irritably barked, his body bucking wildly like a panicked stallion.

Fully crushing the flailing teen into the generator, Freddy breathed out a tolerant, “Don’t be difficult angelfish, otherwise I’ll be tempted to finish off your little friend.”

“F-Feng? Did you fucking touch—”

“With that mouth of hers, I’d imagine she’d be a real screamer.”

Quentin growled aggressively at the remark, his struggles briefly halting as he uttered a hostile, “What d’you want asshole?”

His clever little boy knew him so well. “I want to spend some quality time with my favourite boy. Maybe play a little game.”

“Yeah? Does the game involve pallets?” his boy quipped with a small, smug smile. “Or maybe some gasoline and fire?”

“No,” Freddy patiently spoke and then dragged his claws down the steel of the machine, the piercing sound causing Quentin to flinch underneath him. “I want you to finish your repair work.”

A look of suspicion crossed those hazy blue eyes, one which had Freddy feeling awfully proud, as Quentin asked, “Why?”

“Because it’s part of the game, and fixing it might just give poor Feng the rush of adrenaline she needs to live.” When his boy appeared to be retreating into the depths of his mind, Freddy tugged his skull back by the roots of his hair and added, “Or I’ll throw you on a hook and play with Feng instead. Her language isn’t very ladylike but her mouth can be useful for… _other_ things, or maybe she’ll change her tone if I get her in the right—”

“Okay, okay, you sick fuck!” the teen bitterly spat after shaking his head free. “I’ll _play_ your stupid game! Just leave her alone.”

How predictably selfless. “Good boy. Go on now,” he implored while nodding at the generator, “get to it.”

“You gonna back off and let me breathe?”

“And allow you to run free on the playground unsupervised?” Freddy questioned with mock concern. “I don’t think so.”

He heard Quentin huff out a nasty, frustrated curse before the other eventually began tinkering with the generator once more. Waiting until his boy was effectively distracted, he kneeled behind the younger male and angled a hand downward to palm at his clothed groin.

“Shit!” Quentin violently jolted at the touch, his jerky movement almost causing the machine to explode. “What the hell’re you d—”

“Shh, relax angelfish,” he purred with amusement, his nose pressing into a patch of unruly curls. “I know its been awhile, but you shouldn’t let it distract you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding… d’you h-honestly expect me to do th-this and let you t—”

“You’re slowly killing your friend,” Freddy reminded the sputtering teen. “I thought you wanted her to live.”

“I-I… no don’t,” his boy groaned, the other’s body squirming away from his teasing touches, “g-get you hand off—”

Sighing in disappointment, Freddy made to stand while saying, “Then I guess we’ll have to play some other time.”

“No, wait! _Don’t go!_ ” Quentin pleaded, his hands abandoning the machine to latch onto the sleeve of his sweater. “We-We’re playing okay? Don’t touch Feng.”

Always eager to please; Freddy loved it. “Then finish it.”

Quentin hurriedly went back to work, his fingers rigorously fiddling with the wiring while his body stiffened every few seconds or so. He happily watched his boy stew in his trepidation for a moment before carrying on with his fun, the heel of his palm firmly massaging Quentin’s crotch through his thick jeans. With his gloveless hand preoccupied, his gloved one slipped beneath the teen’s flimsy T-shirt to teasingly run steely tips along taut flesh. A disappointingly short shiver was the only response he received which had him frowning in distaste. His boy was holding back, better than last time too, but Freddy had ways of making Quentin sing for him.

Creating an accessible opening in the other's pants with his claws, Freddy snaked a devious hand inside the gap to seize the hidden treasure there. One single touch to the semi-flaccid organ and the generator suddenly exploded.

He cackled some at the sheer timing of the event and then muttered a sarcastic, “That’s unfortunate.”

Freddy relished in the indignant snarl Quentin released though it sounded more akin to a choked whimper. Cute. He idly wondered how long the younger could last under such pressure.

Grinning slyly at the thought of his stubborn boy coming undone by his hand, Freddy started leisurely stroking the teenager’s length into full hardness. All the while Quentin struggled through his repair work, his normally diligent fingers triggering two more explosions in the process. Witnessing the teenager desperately attempt to cling to his fleeing sanity fueled his anticipation for the finale to come, his excitement gradually peaking to its breaking point.

Feeling a warm slickness greasing his palm, he muttered a pleased, “Seems like you’re enjoying the game.”

“Sh-Shut up!” Quentin feebly snapped, his voice sounding deliciously strained. Things were turning out so nicely.

Another minute of his painstaking torment and his boy became too flustered to function. Quentin quickly retracted his hands to stiffly slam them against the generator, his flushed neck arching while he raggedly panted for breath.

“Don’t quit now angelfish,” Freddy encouraged, his thumb ruthlessly teasing the moist, swollen tip in his grasp. His tongue then slipped out to lick at Quentin’s exposed neck, the tangy taste of sweat and shame delightfully prickling at his taste buds. “You’re almost done.”

“F-Fuck, ah… you.”

“If you keep procrastinating,” he cautioned as he nibbled at the other’s earlobe, “I’ll fuck the little bitch right in front of you.”

Laughing lowly at the murderous glare Quentin gave him, the boy switched his attention back to the machine. When the generator neared imminent completion, Freddy abruptly increased his pace, his feverish strokes driving the neediest of mewls and whines from his quarry. Quentin stubbornly tried to stifle those lusty noises, as he knew his boy would, yet to no avail.

Freddy was honestly stunned when Quentin shakily connected the final set of wires together. Not unexpected given how willful Quentin was with his desires but a surprise nonetheless. The grungy generator came to life with a thunderous roar, its loud rumbling providing the teen some aid in drowning out his shrill cry of release. Willpower did not last forever though. Quentin slumped tiredly against the machine seconds later, his breathing gradually returning to normal as the redness flaring in his cheeks faded away. Retracting his sullied hand, Freddy lazily lapped up the essence sticking to his fingers.

“Still just as sweet as the first time.” He heard the tiniest of sobs in response as Quentin twisted his head to face the interior of the generator. “You did good Quen,” Freddy went on to praise into the boy’s nape, his breath causing the boy to cringe inward, “but we’re not done yet.”

With those words, he then picked up Quentin by the midsection, carted the boy over to the ratty mattress in the far corner, and unceremoniously tossed him onto it. The dazed expression his boy wore quickly morphed into an indignant and mortified one which was nearly masked by the pure hatred burning in those hazy blue orbs. If only he had his camera to capture moments like these: the naïve determination Quentin held so dear; the fruitless struggle to defy the inevitable; and the shame of succumbing to his worst nightmare every single time. It was _absolutely_ priceless.

Practically jumping on top of the boy, Freddy proceeded to shred or remove what remained of his tiresome clothes. Quentin, being the persistent fighter Freddy adored, thrashed helplessly in his grasp. Smooth, toned flesh was nicked here and there, the vivid crimson slices adding contract to his creamy white skin and complimenting his faint scar lines perfectly. It was a minor deterrent but his fiery boy struggled all the same.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Quentin heatedly pleaded after he was stripped completely bare and his wrists were wretched above his head. “ _Just kill me!_ C’mon, p-please just end it. I played your bullshit game and it’s over n—”

“The game’s over when I say it’s over,” he informed, his free hand reaching down to release his throbbing member, “and I still need to take my turn.”

“For fuck’s sake please, please don’t,” Quentin continued to beg even as his legs were forcibly maneuvered over Freddy’s shoulders. His sweet boy was under the false assumption that he had an actual choice in the matter. Freddy aimed to remedy that. “Please Freddy… I-I can’t—”

“You can,” he voiced in the form of a promise before careless penetrating into a warm, snug heat, “and you always will.”

Savouring the agonized wail reverberating in his eardrums, Freddy slowly forced his way farther into Quentin’s unwilling body, the tightness trying to drive him back out with each inch inserted. He let out a gluttonous moan when his cock reached the end of the fleshy tunnel and then promptly chuckled at the blood leaking around his buried member. Robbing Quentin of his innocence time and time again would always be the highlight of his trials.

“You-You fucking… b-bastard!” Quentin stuttered through miserable sobs, his ass involuntarily twitching around the unwanted intruder. “I’ll _never_ forgive you.”

“Aww,” Freddy cooed in a sickly-sweet tone, “I hate you too Quen.”

Offering the younger male a saucy wink, he pulled out almost all the way before swiftly plunging back inside. His thrusts were faint for a moment—if only to ensure that his member did not suffocate from the scorching heat—before changing to animalistic in a matter of seconds. Patience effectively dismissed, Freddy sated his urges while maintaining a keen eye on his boy: the squeeze of his passage cozily caressing his dick; those cesious-coloured eyes tearily, yet intensely, boring into his skull before glazing over from unwanted lust; that flushed skin, with its unique flavouring, glistening from sweat and parting easily under his blades; and those humiliated, strangled whines he emitted when his body unavoidably betrayed him. Admiring every detail had his cock swelling to impossible widths.

Such things like this made living in this world bearable. If Freddy was to be deprived of his precious Nancy, his all-time favourite, then the least he could do was utterly _ruin_ the boy responsible.

“St-Stop moving,” Quentin sorrowfully croaked, his wrists twisting together uselessly in their bind, “you fucking ass… oh god, oh no please don’t! Not inside, _not inside!_ ”

“You know you love it angelfish,” he declared and then immediately spilled deep inside the screaming teen, his seed fully drenching the stretched cavern.

And boy did he love it too, the feeling of marking his obsession in a way no one else could.

Slowly recovering from his incredible sexual high, Freddy harshly ground his hips into the other before withdrawing his spent member, a myriad of fluid oozing out to stain the already filthy mattress. Looking positively exhausted, Quentin flopped weightlessly onto his back and cried softly into the mattress. It was a beautiful sight; his sweet boy always looked so beautiful when he was thoroughly debauched.

A metallic snapping noise slightly startled him, his vision diverting his attention to the foot of the bed where the closed trapdoor had swung open. It would appear that Feng failed to find the adrenaline rush she needed. How she had lingered for so long without bleeding out earlier was the real question though.

“ _No!_ ” Quentin wailed in despair at the sight of the open hatch. “No Feng, no… m’so sorry, F-Feng…”

And of course Quentin was upset over her death and not his current predicament. Although, perhaps the teen was depressed that his efforts had been in vain… again. He smiled elatedly at that wonderful possibility.

Shimming to the edge of the mattress, Freddy cruelly kicked the door shut which then caused the concrete floor to split apart and reveal reddish-orange fissures. Now there was a sight which constantly stung at his eyes. Though short, his time during this trial had been well rewarding but the Entity was sure to start complaining if he dallied here for much longer. Frankly, it was far too vexing to dwell on the Entity and her peculiar ways. Damn insufferable bitch.

Sighing at the ceiling in annoyance, he laid down beside Quentin and gathered the anguish-stricken, bleeding boy in his arms. The trembling teen permitted the contact as he likely was too worn out to wiggle free.

Brushing a stray lock of chocolate brown hair from his sweaty brow, Freddy gently whispered in his ear, “It looks like we’ve got two more minutes to play.”

The torturous, ear-splitting scream Quentin voiced afterwards was akin to the finest of music as the glorious noise echoed throughout the entirety of the basement.


End file.
